Trapped
by lyraonyx
Summary: After helping his friends destroy the orb of darkness, Edward Pendragon is preparing to ascend his throne and marry Mel, but Lydia steals her way into the match and onto the throne. He has no idea what she's after, but knowing Lydia, he knows it's nothing good. There are no explicit scenes; however, some dark adult themes occur.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1

In a few hours, Edward Pendragon would ascend the throne of Thais, yet marrying Mel Darkthrop terrified him more. As much as he loved her, he hadn't enough time to ready himself. He'd had years to prepare for kingship, but his parents had given him a day to ready himself for marriage. The idea of marrying a day after returning from destroying the orb, with Stella's death still a cold weight in his heart, left him queasy.

Still, his mother had made it plain. If he didn't choose a bride, she _would_ , and Edward's mother had little taste for Mel. Unless he went through with the ceremony, he might find himself wed to Lydia. Or an orc.

He wasn't sure which was worse.

Maybe they could get out of this somehow. His mother couldn't force him to marry if he wasn't _in_ the city. The guards would have the main exits covered, but if Mel couldn't find a way out of Thais, no one could.

He chewed on a nail and wondered if he should even bring it up. Mel might think he didn't want to marry her at all. He only wanted a bit of time to prepare himself for the commitment. And to grieve.

He touched the petals of a white rose, alone in a silver vase on his nightstand. As long as Stella had lived, the flower had bloomed. Her magic had kept it alive. With Stella gone, the rose had begun to wilt. A flimsy petal fell onto the tabletop, faded gray against dark wood, and clear drops fell beside it.

Edward closed his fist on air and turned away. Stella was gone, and nothing he could do would bring her back. He had to move on, to be strong. Mel and his kingdom needed him.

With a sigh, he scrubbed a hand across his face and went to the window. The wedding wouldn't be the same without Stella. Maybe he could make his parents see sense, somehow. He had found a bride, as they had asked. He just needed time to heal before they made it official.

His mother would never let him get away with it. She had her heart set on retiring, and once the queen had her mind made up, no force in heaven or earth would change it.

Still, he had to do something. He wasn't sure he could lead, not like this.

Mel. She would know how to get him out of this mess. She could always get him out of tight spots.

Resolved, Edward crossed to his bedroom door. As he passed the bed, Stella's rose caught his eye. Hadn't a petal fallen off? He frowned and looked around, but it wasn't in sight. Maybe the wind had caught it.

With a shrug, Edward left and made his way around an unguarded corner, toward the girls' quarters.

With some maneuvering Mel herself would be proud of, Edward managed to sneak to the women's rooms undetected. As he approached Mel's room, a sudden screech and clang froze him to the spot.

"Mel?"

No good. If she had heard him, she wasn't answering.

Footsteps thundered on the hallway behind him—the guards. Heart pounding in his ears, Edward ducked into an empty room and scrambled behind an old suit of armor. Fists beat on Mel's door, and Edward held his breath.

A feminine voice called, "Princess? Are you well?"

Mel replied in a breathless voice, "Y-yeah. Just having trouble … with this, ugh. This night-forsaken dress. Can someone help me, please?"

The guard paused. "Oh. Well, all right, but I thought you were already dressed?"

"I was, but it was laced a little tight. I couldn't breathe."

"I see. Well, I'll send a lady-in-waiting, then."

"No, no. I don't want to wait that long. Can you just help me lace it?"

"Ah, well, I suppose so. Do I have permission to en—"

"Yes, yes, come in."

The door swung open and shut, and footsteps faded away. Behind his suit of armor, Edward toyed with the hem of his tunic. She didn't want to wait? Did she just want to get the ceremony over with, then, or was she actually _excited_ for the wedding?

He had to know. Pulse racing, he slipped from behind the armor and crept to the doorway. As he listened for nearby guards, Mel's conversation with the guard met his ears.

"Just a little looser at the top, Heidi. I need room for these."

"Ah, M'lady, please. Put those away."

Edward stifled a snort.

"As you wish," said Mel.

The room fell silent, and Edward edged closer to the door.

"Heidi, hurry it up. I'm ready, already."

"But M'lady, this is still half-open. You cannot go out like this."

"Pff. Fine. Just hurry."

The guard chuckled. "So you are excited after all. The queen had the impression that you were less than willing."

"Why wouldn't I be willing? Edward is smart, and handsome, and powerful. I'll be loved, and be everything I ever wanted as his wife—hah—his queen. I can't wait."

Something nagged at Edward's heart. Since when had Mel wanted his throne? If anything, she detested it.

"Hurry up, woman! My king awaits."

Heidi laughed. "My, you _are_ eager. Well, you'll be done in five more lacings, then we can seek out the prince and begin the ceremony."

Edward took his cue, and darted out of the hallway as fast as he could without alerting the guards.

So Mel had reconciled herself to the wedding. More than reconciled—she couldn't wait for it. And he was dragging his feet.

Edward sighed and turned back toward the men's quarters. He couldn't let her down, not when she wanted to marry him so much. Yet something seemed off. Something he couldn't quite place.

"Prince Edward!"

Matt, one of their slicker Thaisian guards. Edward should have known the man would tail him—and catch him. The queen had hired him almost expressly for that purpose.

A rough hand grabbed him round the collar and spun him around to face a black-haired man with dark eyes.

"What are you doing in the ladies' quarters?"

Edward let out a nervous chuckle. "Um, trying to steal a peek."

Matt chuckled. "I don't blame you. Still, get back to your room, Highness, or I'll be forced to tell your mother what you're up to."

Edward nodded. "Sure, once you let go."

The guard released him and patted his collar straight. "There you go. Now, go on."

Edward scampered back to the mens' quarters with a nervous heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

As soon as Edward kissed his new bride's lips, coldness shot through his mouth and into his limbs. He gasped and reeled back, touching his face.

"What … what is this?"

Mel's lips curved into a smirk, an expression tinged with the kind of selfish disregard he had never seen in Mel's eyes. Granted, she could be mercenary, but underneath her hard-edged guise, the woman had a caring heart.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the chancellor said.

A fierce gleam glowed in Mel's eyes, and a shiver passed over Edward's flesh. A weight settled onto his head.

"I proclaim you king of Thais, Edward Pendragon," said the chancellor.

Mel smirked and turned to accept her crown. The nagging feeling in his heart grew.

Edward tugged at the chancellor's sleeve. "Wait. Something's not right."

Mel shot him a dark look. "Carry on, Chancellor."

The man gulped and laid a golden circlet on her head.

"Y-yes, M'lady. I proclaim you Queen of Thais, M—"

The temple doors banged open with a sound like one of Lydia's blast spells.

"Edward, stop!"

His heart sank into his feet. That voice—it couldn't be. He turned toward the door as shouts and murmurs broke out through the crowd.

"M-Mel?"

His bride stood near the open doors, her hair in disarray and grass staining the hem of her wedding gown.

A woman with dark skin and purple hair shot out from behind Mel. "Stop the ceremony!"

Edward's eyes filled. "Stella! You're alive? But, wait a moment!"

He looked between two perfect copies of his Mel, one standing on the altar beside him with a triumphant look on her face, the other by the doors, wringing her hands.

"What the hell? _Two_ of you?"

The queen bolted to her feet and slammed her palm on a pew. "What trickery is this?"

The Mel by the door sprinted up the aisle, yanking her skirts a bit too high and revealing her petticoat to the onlookers. She had never cared much for propriety or formality. It was one of the things he loved about her.

"Edward, don't, don't marry that hag!" She rushed into his arms and took hold of his face. "You're supposed to marry me."

Edward fell back, nonplussed. "But … I did marry you. What—how? What's happened? Which one of you is Mel?"

The Mel he had given vows to let out a titter, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

"No," he breathed. "It can't be."

The Mel he had married shimmered and glowed, and Edward leapt back, pulling the other Mel into a protective embrace. Green pigtails sprouted like tentacles from beneath the false Mel's hair. Her nose turned down and lengthened, and her tan skin faded to the ghostly pallor of sheltered noblewomen. Her blue eyes yellowed to swampish-green, and Edward doubled over, nauseated and shaking.

Lydia. Goddess forbid, he had just wed himself to _Lydia_.

"Drat it, street-rat," Lydia cried. "Why do you always have to ruin everything?"

"You!" The true Mel screeched and leapt onto Lydia, tearing at her gown. "Foul hag! Lying witch, we save the world together and _this_ is how you repay me?"

Lydia ripped Mel's bow out and slapped her face. "Unhand your queen, peasant! I'll throw you in the prison."

Edward fell, shaking, to his knees. "No, no, this isn't right. I married _Mel_ , not Lydia."

Mel's shriek brought dust from the ceiling, and she cut her palm across Lydia's cheek.

The king's voice boomed through the castle. "Girls! Cease this madness this instant!"

Teary-eyed and fierce, Mel tackled Lydia and wrestled her to the ground. "Thieving wench! I'll gut you for this!"

"He's mine, guttersnipe!"

Lydia sent a blaze of fire at Mel, and Edward cringed. Mel couldn't protect herself against magic, and his legs wouldn't move. He couldn't save her, not this time.

White light shot between Mel's tearful face and the blaze. The fire simmered and faded against the shield.

Stella heaved Edward to his feet and gripped his hands. "Edward, tell me you didn't finish the ceremony. Tell me we're not too late."

Edward tried to answer, but his voice made no sound.

Guards pulled Mel and Lydia apart, and subdued them.

"Unhand me," Lydia demanded.

The guard looked between the former king and the woman. The man gave him a slight nod, and the guard released her.

Lydia straightened her hair and sniffed. "As I thought. Remember your place, ruffian."

The guard winced. "Y-yes, M'lady."

Mel raged against the guard holding her with the strength and ferocity of a tiger. "This isn't right! _I'm_ Mel, not that thieving, lying witch! Edward is _my_ fiancé!"

Lydia let out a chilling laugh. "Too late, street-rat! He's mine now! Isn't that right, dear Husband?"

Edward shuddered. "I'm not your husband." He rushed to Mel and pulled her into his arms. "I, Mel, I didn't know. I'm sorry."

She glared at him, though tears shone on her lashes. "You should've known. You should have realized it wasn't me."

He lowered his head. She was right. All that thrill for power, the posturing, the aristocratic manners—it was nothing like Mel.

He should have realized something had gone awry.

"I'm sorry. I, if it means anything, I love you."

Her glare softened—a bit. "Yeah, well, now what? Did you marry her?"

His eyes lit with fury. "I would _never_ marry that hideous witch!"

Lydia's eyes filled with hurt, but a scowl flashed over it the next instant. "Oh, wouldn't you? Because you just did! That's right, King Edward. You're my husband now—whether you like it or not—and the whole kingdom saw you wed me!"

"No, they saw me wed _Mel_! You, you tricked me."

Stella turned to the priest. "Sir, is this binding? It is clear Edward does not want Lydia, and she used deception to gain her place here."

The priest bowed his head. "I, I'm sorry, M'Lady. I wish I could say it wasn't, but our laws state that once the prince takes a bride and is coroneted, no power can revoke it."

Edward cried out, "No! You know I didn't want to marry her."

"I'm sorry, my lord. There's nothing I can do to reverse it."

Edward turned a pleading look on his parents. "Mother, Father, help me. I don't want this. I want Mel, and this—it's not right."

His mother winced. "Edward, we cannot. She is queen now, not I. And perhaps it isn't such a bad situation. She _is_ of noble blood, unlike your previous choice."

Edward's temper flared. "Mel is still my choice, Mother—that has never, and will never change!"

His father gave him a pitying look. "My boy, as little as I like this, she is the queen now. Try to reconcile yourself to it, at least until we can sort this out."

Edward's knees wobbled, and he fell into Stella's arms. "No. Father, please."

"I'm sorry, my son. I can do nothing."

"B-but Mel—"

The woman pushed past Edward, her expression fierce and her eyes cold. "Never mind it." Mel tossed her veil aside. "I never wanted to be a noble anyway. I was ready to embrace it for you, Edward, but …." She gave him a broken look, and turned her back. "But that's over now.

"Mel, please," Edward reached for her hand, but Mel jerked free.

"Stella, come on. Let's go, before our _queen_ can do anything else to ruin our lives."

With a heavy sigh, Stella kissed Edward's cheek. "Don't worry. We'll figure out something to help you. We'll find a way to make this ri—"

Lydia shrieked, "Get out of my city, street-rats, before I throw you in the dungeons!"

Stella scurried out of the castle after Mel, and Edward's world crashed in. He sank to his knees and whispered her name, but Mel was gone, and he knew her too well to suppose she'd come back.

She couldn't, not with Lydia ruling the kingdom.

Nausea rumbled in his gut. Lydia, ruling over Thais? Gods help them all.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

The moment Edward realized he had married himself to Lydia, and he couldn't escape the commitment—at least not yet—he ordered his staff to arrange for separate quarters for them. The idea of sharing a house with Lydia was bad enough. The idea of sharing her bed left a sensation of slime and rot over his flesh.

Lydia didn't object. She reveled in her newfound authority and extravagance. Despite her fawning over him before, she had never loved Edward. She loved his throne, and his power.

Mel had seen beyond it, and loved the person underneath. Gods, how he missed her.

Edward went to the balcony outside his bedroom and leaned on the railing. Rain drizzled on his head, but he didn't care. He found peace in the nights, when the castle slept and Lydia could terrorize him no longer.

Without Mel, it was the only peace he had left.

She hadn't come to the castle for weeks, and had made herself scarce around Thais, too. Edward supposed she had to. Lydia would find some way to ruin her if she showed her face there again. The harpy might throw her in prison, and, magic binding bracelet or not, Gyendal would ensure she never escaped.

Best Mel stayed far away from Thais, however Edward missed her.

He flopped on the railing and let slow, silent tears slide down his cheeks. Were kings supposed to cry?

It didn't matter. Who would see him in the dark, and the rain? Who would care, even if they did? Lydia? Paugh. She would only laugh.

Mel might have cared, once, but she was gone.

Edward ached for her. He yearned to find Mel in some secret place, take her into his arms, and kiss her. He wanted so much to erase that haunted look in her eyes, the flicker of despair she had shown just before marching from the ceremony.

He stood and wiped his face. Crying would do no good. As much as he wanted to be with Mel, duty and Lydia's authoritative rule bound him to the palace. The people of Thais needed at least _one_ compassionate ruler. Without Edward to combat Lydia, she would destroy the city.

How much he wished he would have listened to his instincts about the false Mel, but he could do nothing about it now. Lydia had won, and he could do nothing but try to mitigate her cruelty.

Edward turned, thinking of bed, but a whispered call brought him around again.

"Hey! Wait!"

He reached for his blade, and felt only the thin fabric of his nightshirt. Curse his stupidity—he had left it in the bedroom. Still, he might fight an attacker with his fists if need be, or call for the guards.

Instinct—and fear of waking Lydia—bid him keep his voice down.

"Who's there?"

The whisper replied, "Edward, it's me."

His heart pattered. "Me, who?"

A tanned, slender hand reached over the edge of the balcony, and Edward leapt back. Black hair and a yellow bow followed, and his blood warmed.

He met her eyes, her name rushing out in a whisper.

"Mel …."

She vaulted over the balcony with the grace and silence of a cat. "Yeah."

With a soft, breathless cry, he caught her into his arms and kissed her face all over.

"You came," he murmured. "You finally came."

She pushed away. "Just don't tell your _wife_." The title spewed from her mouth with soul-chilling venom.

She hadn't forgiven him. Perhaps she never would.

Edward reached for her. "Mel, please. I didn't want to marry her. I want you. It's always been you."

Mel pulled away, but she watched him, shoulders tense, expression unreadable.

"You mean that?"

Edward knelt before her and took her hands. "I mean it with everything in me. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

She sniffled. "Why didn't you know it wasn't me?"

He craned his neck to meet her eyes. "I, I thought there was something wrong, but I just assumed you were trying to fit into the role of a queen. I thought—I know I should have said something, done something, but I never thought it wasn't you. I never dreamed Lydia _could_ imitate you, let alone would. It's always so hard for you to tell me your feelings, so, I thought, maybe you were just trying to fit in, so I'd see that you cared for me without words." He closed his eyes around a wet sting. "I don't suppose you do anymore."

"When did I ever say that I did in the first place?"

A knife twisted in Edward's heart, and he released her hands with a gasp.

"Oh. I, oh." He stood and turned, squinting to hold in tears. "I guess I was wrong, then. I, I'll just go."

"Wait." Slender arms wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him into Mel. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean that. Don't go."

He lowered his head, torn and bleeding inside. "If you don't love me, why should I stay?"

Warm lips found the nape of his neck. "I never said I didn't."

Edward whirled around and threw her arms free of him. "Dammit, Mel, stop playing games with me." He opened his eyes to glare at her, and the tears he'd pinned back flew from him. "No more tricks. Do you want me or not?"

Her breath caught, and she traced her fingers down his cheek. "You, you're crying."

He swallowed a sob. "Yeah? Well, it hurts. I'm married to the most evil woman in the country, but I'm in love with someone who won't even tell me if she cares for me at all. What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm trying, trying to be brave through all of this, but I just, I …." He turned away and wiped his face. "Go. If you're just going to toy with me, go. I have enough to worry about without you adding to it."

"Edward, please. Just let me say what I came to say. I'll go, but let me talk. Please."

He motioned her on and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Get on with it."

"Fine. Just hold still."

"What?"

A gentle mouth met his, and strong hands tangled in his hair. With a surprised grunt, he pulled back.

"What the?"

Mel gave him a penitent, pleading look. "Edward, I—"

He jerked back. "What the hell? You kissed me, but you don't care for me?

"Listen to me, you dolt."

He sniffled. "I don't want to."

"Well, you're going to, whether you want to or not."

He gave a bitter laugh. "My, doesn't that sound familiar? And you wonder why I couldn't tell you from Lydia."

"Oh, just shut up and let me finish a sentence."

He leaned against the wall and lowered his head. "Fine. Just get it over with."

"Please. Let me show you what I'm trying to say. It's hard."

Edward frowned. Maybe Mel meant—maybe she _did_ care. It wouldn't be the first time she had lied to cover her fear.

A gentle hand tipped his chin down. He gazed in her eyes, trembling, as she caressed his cheek.

She whispered, "Edward, noble or not, I chose you. I was willing to give up my way of life to be with you once." She blinked, and tears slipped down her cheeks. "I still am."

His heart thumped, and the stabbing despair left his chest. "Mel, you really—wait. Are you toying with me again?"

She shook her head. "Edward, I wasn't toying with you before. I didn't mean I don't care about you—I was saying I was stupid for not saying it sooner."

His cheeks warmed. "So, you weren't saying you don't love me?"

She shook her head.

"Oh." He laid his forehead against hers and pulled her close. "I'm sorry."

She kissed him lightly. "No, I'm sorry. It's just, it's hard for me to admit my feelings, but I can't stand it anymore. I can't bear watching you suffer from the shadows, while _she_ lords over you and makes you miserable, and you still don't even know, that I care about you."

"You do?"

"Yes. More than anyone."

He fell into her arms with a sigh. "I'll forgive you, if you forgive me."

She tucked her chin under his, laying her ear against his chest. "Deal."


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

As Edward held Mel close and stroked her hair, a missing part of him fell into place. He'd missed her so long, and ached for her for longer. Perhaps since that first day, when she looked at him like a normal human being—a boy, not a prince—and saw him for who he really was. From then on, she had held his heart.

He had waited years to hear her say, she felt the same.

His heart full and warm, he squeezed her close and lowered his head onto hers.

"Mel, you truly love me?"

She buried her face into his chest, but nodded.

"Say it."

"Mm-wuffle-du."

He slipped a hand under her chin and tipped her face to his. "Tell me, Mel. Please."

Her face burned bright red. She lowered her eyes and trembled, but in a soft voice, she gave him the gift he had needed for so long.

"I, I love you, Edward Pendragon."

Emotion overflowed and spilled down his cheeks. Careless of his tears, he leaned down and kissed her. His first real kiss—besides the one Mel had shocked him with earlier. Cheeks hot and heart racing, he held her, pressing her head close and showering love on her through his lips.

Slender arms wrapped around his neck and tugged him closer, and weeks of strain and tension evaporated from his soul. She had accepted him. She loved him, at last.

Rain pattered on their hair and slid, cold and slippery, into their shirts, but Edward felt only Mel. Her heartbeat against his. Her lips seeking solace in his kiss. Her arms wrapped around him, and her wet hair tangled in his fingers.

For once, something had gone right.

When they broke for air, he pressed her close into his chest and held her, tingling warmth rushing over his skin.

"Mel, I've never felt so much."

She gave him a lopsided grin. "I haven't, either."

He kissed her forehead and breathed in her scent. "Stay. Please."

"I can't, sweetheart. You know that."

He tugged her closer. "Yeah, but I don't want to let you go."

"Lydia won't be happy if I stay."

His shoulders slumped. "Oh. Right."

At the mention of Lydia, Edward's situation came rushing back. He was married, and not to the woman in his arms. He wouldn't care—Lydia had forced and tricked him into marriage, after all—yet she had the power to have Mel executed if they were caught like this.

Though he ached at the thought of it, he had to let her go.

Edward lowered his head into her hair. "Mel, you'd better get out of here. I don't want her to find you, not like this. I love you too much to see you be hurt, especially because of me."

Mel shook her head. "I don't need to, not yet. I made sure Lydia wouldn't interrupt us. And the entire castle, for that matter." She gave him a wink. "So, we have a little time. A few moments, anyway."

He gave her a sad smile. "That's more than I hoped for. What'd you do?"

"Stella whipped up a little sleeping potion for me. Works wonders."

Edward grinned. "Can I have some to throw in Lydia's mouth every time she opens it?"

Mel covered a snicker. "I'd pay good coin to see that. Unfortunately, I don't have any left. I can always ask Stella to make more, though."

Edward chuckled softly. "Sure. Anything to be free of her for a moment."

Mel rubbed his hair. "Sweetheart, is it too hard? You weren't out here in the rain to, to do something rash, were you?"

He frowned. "Like what?"

"Like jump off the tower."

He paled. "No! I just, I like it out here. There's no one demanding me do this or that, and I can think my own thoughts." He drew back and wrapped his arms around his waist. "It's the only freedom I have left."

Mel tugged him back into her embrace and ran gentle fingers through his hair. "We still have one hope, Edward. There's still a chance to break it off with Lydia, without ruining yourself."

He gripped her hands. "Truly? What? What is it? I'd do anything to be rid of her."

Mel nodded. "You and me both. But Edward, have you, ah, this is going to be an awkward question, but have you consummated your marriage bed yet?"

He shuddered and scowled. "I'd rather let Te'Ijal have a bite out of me than even _think_ of Lydia naked."

The corners of Mel's lips twitched. "So, that's a no?"

"Gods, no! I can't touch that vile thing."

Mel let out a rush of air. "Thank the light. Listen to me, Edward. Keep yourself away from her at all costs." She whispered into his ear. "I've done some digging into the royal marriage laws of Thais. Just three more weeks. Three more weeks without touching her, and you can legally have the marriage annulled. Since you're the blood heir, Lydia will lose her crown, and you can start over."

Hope blossomed in Edward's heart. "Really? You mean this nightmare is almost over?"

Mel smiled. "Yeah. If you want it to be."

He caught her into a passionate kiss, sweeping her clear off her feet. "I can't wait."

Mel wrapped her arms and legs about Edward's body. "Me neither." She kissed him with gentle lips. "Edward, I don't want to, but I have to go. That potion will wear off soon."

He sighed and held her close. "I wish you could stay, but I don't want to risk you."

She nuzzled his nose. "I'll be back in three weeks."

"Where are you going? You're not leaving me, right?"

"Not you, but Thais. I need to be out of Lydia's sight, and I have to get the priestesses to prove your, ah, innocence. They're the only ones who can make this nightmare go away now."

Edward nodded. "All right. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"So, noon."

Mel chuckled. "Probably."

"I suppose I shouldn't come wish you luck."

She shook her head. "Too risky in daylight. She'll tail you, probably."

He nuzzled her hair. "I know. Just promise you'll be safe, and come back to me soon."

"I promise." She jumped from his arms and caressed his waist. "Just hold on a little longer, and keep your body safe. It's only three more weeks."

He held her close and breathed her in. "All right. Will you still marry me, when I'm free?"

"So long as Lydia's not invited."

He stifled a laugh against her cheek. "I think I can agree to that." He tipped her head up and kissed her. "I love you. Come home fast."

"Deal." She stroked his cheek. "Goodbye. I'll see you soon."

"Goodbye, Mel."

She kissed him briefly, then moved to the edge of the balcony. He watched, curious, as she cupped her lips and whistled the cry of an ice bird into the night. From some distance away, a second whistle answered.

"See ya."

Mel gripped the edge of the balcony, vaulted over, and was gone before Edward could blink. He tried to pick her form out of the shadows, but she had too much skill. She had vanished, and no one would see her again unless she wanted them to.

With a sigh, Edward leaned over the wall and waved to the night.

"Be safe, Mel."

In three more weeks, perhaps she wouldn't have to duck around in the cover of shadows. The thought gave him the first hope he'd felt since Lydia tricked him into marriage.

"Almost over," he murmured, and turned from the window.

"Oh, is it?"

A green-haired woman stood at his doorway, tossing an empty cup in her hand. Edward's heart dropped into his feet.

"Lydia!"


	5. Chapter 5

_(AN: This chapter talks of and shows the beginning of rape. Not graphic. Advised for age 17+ audiences.)_

 **Part 5**

Edward's pulse hammered in his ears. Lydia knew. Gods forbid, Lydia knew.

How much had she overheard?

"W-what are you doing here? These are _my_ quarters."

She caught the cup and stared at it. "Foolish mistake, that was."

He swallowed. "What?"

"That street-rat thief isn't as smart as she thinks she is. Trying to fool _me_ with a sleeping potion—paugh! I could have detected this in my first year of mage training."

Flames appeared in her palm, and the cup burned to ash. A gust of wind—probably from Lydia—blew the ashes into Edward's face.

He coughed out, "W-what are you talking about? Mel hasn't been here for weeks."

Her eyes blazed. "Don't lie to me, Husband. I heard her."

Edward gulped.

Lydia dusted her palms and leaned against the wall. "Three weeks, eh?"

He took a step back. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, yes you do. That street-rat is off to Aveyond in the morning to prove your _innocence_."

The way she said it turned his blood to ice. What did the witch have planned?

She played with her fingernails. "I should kill her."

Edward gasped. "No. You can't!"

Lydia laughed. "Can't I? I'm the queen, remember? I could have her killed tonight, and I wouldn't have to lift a finger."

Panic crashed through Edward's veins. "Damn you, you evil hag."

He had to warn Mel, somehow, but how? If he knew her, Mel was halfway across the city by now. He might call for the guards, but they would obey Lydia, too, and that might end up getting Mel thrown in prison or killed. He glanced to his sword, across the room and by his headboard. Lydia would have him drowned or burned before he reached it.

Gods, what could he do?

An image of Mel silhouetted against the moon with her hand cupped around her mouth flitted through his mind. Her call! If Edward could make it fast enough, maybe she would hear it. Maybe she would leave tonight, and get out of town before Lydia made good on her threat.

Desperate, he cupped his hand over his mouth and started to imitate Mel's ice bird call, but his breath ran short.

"None of that, now."

Lydia waved her hand at him and whispered something. Ice bound his throat with a steely grip, and his cry died on a wheeze.

Goddess above, she'd silenced him. He couldn't warn Mel. He couldn't even call for help. Shaking, he sank against the wall and rubbed his throat. It did no good. He had no magic to break her spells.

Lydia tsked at him. "Such a pity. We make such a beautiful couple, Edward."

He made a gesture that got his message across clear enough, with or without the use of his tongue.

"How obscene!" Lydia tittered again. "Well, in time. For now, let it ease your heart to know I have no need to kill the little wretch. Let her go."

His racing heart slowed a pace. Had Lydia gained a measure of humanity? Had she come to her senses and realized her wealth wasn't worth Edward's unhappiness?

Somehow, he doubted it.

Eyebrows raised, he frowned and gestured, as much as he could do without his voice. She gave him a look that set his skin crawling.

"Oh, that answer's quite simple. I don't _need_ to kill her. Let her get the priestesses. When they come back, they're going to find something quite different than what they expected."

Her eyes drifted down his body, and the hair stood up on the back of his neck.

She planned to take advantage of him.

His breath hung in his throat, and his limbs went cold. He ducked against the wall, covering his hips with his knees, and wrapped himself tight. She couldn't touch him if she couldn't reach him.

Lydia chuckled. "What's the matter? Afraid of your own wife? Come now. We've been married over two months, and you've not so much as touched me."

He shook his head violently. No, gods no, he didn't want this.

 _Go away, Lydia. Please._

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Well, I'll fix that." She hummed as she began stripping off her robe, and Edward cringed away.

"That wretch did one thing right. You can fight and struggle all you want, and no one will hear a thing—they're all asleep."

A hand slithered over his knee and pressed his legs apart. He slammed a fist forward, but it bounced harmlessly off a shield of time magic.

"Shouldn't have given me that book, eh?" Lydia pressed his other knee down, but Edward pushed her back and scrambled away.

"Hmm." Lydia observed him, panting and trembling in a corner, and shook her head. "Well, this won't do. I'll be chasing you all night."

Edward gave her a vicious nod.

 _Damn right, you will, woman. You're not touching me._

She strode toward him, her breasts bouncing in rhythm, and Edward bolted. He made for his sword, knocking a table and vase over in his escape. The porcelain shattered with a massive crash—surely _someone_ had heard it. His fingers closed around his sword hilt, and he turned, giving Lydia a grim smile. Let her come at him now. He would sooner cut her down than suffer her.

"Ooh, you look so handsome when you swing your sword."

Edward shuddered. Gods, she was foul.

"Hmm. Don't want you cutting me with that beast though, so let's put it away for now."

She waved a hand at him, and Edward's hand let go of the hilt. He gasped and started back. What had happened? He hadn't thought to drop the sword—it was his only protection.

"Surprised?" She snickered. "You _really_ shouldn't have let me have that spell book. Turns out there were some control spells in there. Charms, entrancements, all kinds of things to make a man do what I want him to." She jerked her eyes downward. " _Anything_ I want."

Her hand reached down, and pulled up in a dragging motion, and to his horror, Edward's masculinity rose with her fingers. Shamed and terrified, he tried to push himself back down, but it hurt, and Lydia forced his hands away the next instant.

"Oh, stop pretending you don't want me." She shimmied her hips and bounced. "That street-rat has nothing to these curves."

Edward turned his head.

"Oh, no you don't. I want you looking at me while you make love to me."

His eyelids stung as his head turned back around. He closed his lids, but she forced them open again, and dragged his head into a kiss. In vain, he struggled and fought, but to no avail. As she untied his trousers and dragged them down his hips, he gave himself up for lost.

 _Mel, I'm so sorry. I tried._


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

Lydia fell asleep sometime near dawn. As soon as he could move, Edward rushed to the washroom and vomited into the chamber pot, until his stomach had nothing more to expel. Until that night, he had thought it impossible to rape a man.

Lydia had proved him wrong.

If only Mel had stayed. Maybe she could have protected him. Maybe she could have been fast enough to thwart Lydia's schemes.

Or maybe, Lydia would have killed her and been done with it, instead of letting her go.

He forced himself up, standing on shaky knees, and wiped his eyes and mouth. He had to go to Mel. He had tell her what happened, and besides, everything hurt so much. He needed her touch to wash away the taste of Lydia. He needed her to kiss him and hold him and tell him he was still worth something.

But what if he went to her, and Mel rejected him? What if, when he told her what Lydia had done, she turned him away and wanted nothing else to do with him?

He wouldn't blame her. He wanted nothing to do with himself. Yet, he had to try. He couldn't let Mel run to Aveyond, not like this. He couldn't let her go, thinking everything was well, and watch her face fall when the priestesses tried his innocence. Tried him, and revealed the stain on his soul.

He wasn't innocent anymore. Lydia had ruined him.

He fell against the washstand, shaking with desolate sobs.

A knock sounded at his door.

"Edward? Are you well?"

His father. Maybe he would know what to do.

Edward tugged a robe on over himself and crawled to the door.

"Dad, help me."

The door swung open, and Edward's father sucked in a horrified gasp. "Son! What is it?"

"Help me," Edward muttered. "Get me out of here. Kill me, carry me. I don't care. Just get me away from here."

"All right." Strong arms and the scent of spices and leather enveloped him. "Come. Lean on me, my boy. We shall sort this out."

"It's too late. She's destroyed me."

The older man winced and shut the door behind them. "Child, what do you mean? What happened?"

"Lydia. She, she took, she used—oh, I'm going to be sick again."

The boy leaned over and dry-heaved, but his stomach was empty. He fell into a dark haze, and the former king called for a nurse. Strong hands lifted him up and carried him into a room somewhere.

"Don't you worry, King Edward," an older manservant said. "We'll get you better. Just lay back and rest."

"W-where's Dad?"

Someone washed his face and clucked over him. "My, looks like you've had a rough night. Your father is waiting nearby. We sent him out of the room so we could treat and wash you."

Another man took his robe—Edward whimpered and clutched at it—and gasps filled the room.

The first man said, "What is this, this mark?"

A gentle hand prodded Edward's hip.

"It looks like claw marks," said the second man. "Someone has scratched him."

"That's not a scratch," the first man answered. "It looks more like a mark of magic. Dark magic."

A shiver passed over him. So Lydia's torment _had_ stained him. Did it still have an effect on him, then? Could she still control him?

The thought set him dry-heaving again.

"King Edward!" The first man turned him to his side and rubbed his shoulders. "There now. A little healing should clean this right up."

The second man said, "Heavens, do you think it's that mark making him sick?"

"Maybe."

"Will he be all right? He's not going to die, is he?"

Die? No, Lydia wouldn't kill him—she'd lose her puppet.

Her puppet?

Edward gasped as the pieces clicked. He finally knew how to cut his strings.

He let out a sharp cry. "Stop _staring_ at me, you fools! Cover me this instant!"

The nurse draped a blanket over him and rubbed his hair. "It's all right now, M'Lord. I'm not sure what happened, but we'll keep you safe."

"I don't need protection. I need my clothing." Edward sat and wiped his face. "You, bring me a change of clothing, my cloak, and my sword immediately. You, leave me, and clear everyone from this wing. Make sure _no one_ comes near this room, not even the queen. _Especially_ not the queen."

A man-in-waiting protested, "But sire, you're ill."

Edward growled. "That was an _order_!"

With a squeak, the men scurried from the room. As the door shut behind them, Edward lowered his face into his hands and waited. So far, so good.

Some moments later, one of the men returned with his clothes, boots, cloak, and sword, and laid it on the bed beside Edward.

"Ah, Sire, d-do you need help changing?"

Edward shuddered. "No. Just go find my father and bring him here. And remember what I said— _no one else can come near this room_ , on penalty of death. You hear me? I'll kill the person I catch near here who hasn't the right to be."

The man bowed. "Y-yes, Sire. Right away." He rushed from the room once more.

Edward watched him go with a twinge of guilt on his heart. He had terrified the poor man, but his ruse—and possibly his life—depended on his plan. He had to act the part.

He tugged on a pair of breeches with trembling hands. He needed to leave the castle as fast as possible and seek out Mel, but would she even want to look at him now? Would she hate him?

He sighed and hopped into a clean pair of pants. Maybe, but whether she wanted him or not, he couldn't stay here. Nothing but pain and death awaited him in the halls of what he had once called his home.

The man-in-waiting knocked on the door.

Edward growled, "I thought I told you to stay away!"

"I-I was j-just bringing your f-father, Sire. I'm leaving, this instant!"

"See that you do."

The door opened, and the former king stepped inside with a deep frown.

"Edward, what is this? I have never seen you act so harshly with the servants before."

Edward ignored him and walked to the door, scanning down both sides of the hall. The man-in-waiting scurried away, down the stairs and out of sight. No one else hung about. With a sigh, he went back into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Dad, I need your help."

The former king tugged at his beard. "All right. What is it?"

"I need you to help me fake my death."

"What!"

"You heard me. I have to leave Thais. Today. I can't stay here any longer, not until Lydia is gone."

His father paled. "But son, you can't abandon our people to _her_!"

"I know. I need you to guard the kingdom until I get back. It has to be you. Lydia will destroy me, and you're the only one who knows the law well enough to counter her schemes."

"But I'm not king anymore, Edward."

Edward met his eyes. "You are, if I'm dead."

His father gripped his hand. "Son, whatever she did, it's not worth your life."

"No, but if I stay, that will be the cost." Edward lowered his head. "Father, I'm sorry, but this is the way it has to be. I have to slip out—right now—and vanish. The Thasian people must think I'm dead, and you must, too. Until we can find a way to knock Lydia from her throne, you must rule, and the only way for that to happen is for me to die. Or, at least for them to think I'm dead."

"B-but, son—why? I don't understand."

Edward rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Dad, please, just trust me. Lydia is guilty of high treason, and if I could prove it, I'd slap her in chains this instant and order her executed, but I can't. Until I can, I have to slip out and make it look like I'm gone for good, so you can keep her from destroying the city."

He reeled back and gripped at a table, pale and wide-eyed. "High treason! Son, what did she do?"

Edward averted his eyes. "You don't want to know."

The former king shuddered. "As you wish. So why do you need to leave Thais, if you must find proof of her deeds? I would think you would find it more easily here."

"Perhaps I would, but I have to leave for two reasons. One, living with Lydia will kill me if I have to endure it another day. And two—"

Edward pulled up his tunic and revealed his hip to his father. A black circle with a half-sun and eye shape marked the muscle just above his pelvis.

"Two," Edward continued, "I don't know what this is, but I don't think it's good. I'm afraid Lydia might use it to try to control me. I need to go where I can do no harm. To where someone can maybe heal me—to Stella, and to Aveyond, if she cannot heal it."

The former king sank back onto the bed, stunned. "Child, I know Lydia is unkind, but do you truly think she's _that_ evil?"

Edward held his gaze without blinking. "Do you not see what she's done to me already? Yes, she's that evil, and worse."

The former king sighed. "Very well. I will do as you've asked."

Relief settled onto Edward's bones. "Thank you, Father."

His father embraced him. "Just come home. And this time, maybe without the bride."

Edward gave a sad laugh. "Maybe."

As he tugged his cloak over his face and slunk out of the room, cold grief spread through his chest. Without the bride? Edward doubted he would have a choice. He still wanted the same woman he always had, but would Mel ever be able to look him in the eye again?

He caught his reflection in a mirror and turned away. She probably couldn't. He couldn't even stand to look at himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

Years of watching Mel slip around the city like a ghost had taught Edward a few tricks of his own. He hadn't Mel's lithe form perfect for getting out of tight spots—and into them—nor had he her agility, but he could vanish when he needed to.

Shame he'd had nowhere to vanish to the night before.

A fresh sting built under his lids as he remembered Lydia's crawling hands, but he blinked it down and forced his attention to the task at hand. Going about the streets of Thais unnoticed had been hard enough as a prince. As a king—and a dead man—it was almost impossible. He had his cloak pulled down over his hair and his clothing hidden, but one ill-timed breeze might blow back his hood and reveal his face for all of Thais to see.

If even _one_ person recognized him, his game was up.

He hardly took a breath from the time he snuck out of the castle gardens, to the moment he stepped into the shadow of the Lamplight Inn. Tucked beneath the swaying branches of a spring willow tree beside the inn, he allowed himself a moment of respite. Just long enough to calm his racing pulse—he could afford to wait no longer. His father had promised to delay announcing Edward's 'death' as long as he could, but that gave him a few extra moments at best. If the king waited any longer, the servants—and Lydia—would suspect.

Edward's lips curled into a grim smile. Lydia would know as soon as she heard, but she could say nothing without incriminating herself. How would she know that the mark on Edward's hip was a mark of possession and not of a curse unless she had seen it or put it there herself?

She would be furious when she realized Edward had slipped away. She would wail and demand her husband be brought back, but by that time, he would be well out of Thais and out of her reach.

Well, not if he dallied much longer. Edward pushed off from the tree trunk and made his way toward the apartments. Through process of elimination, he had narrowed Mel's place of residence down to two possibilities, and he knew how to narrow it further, but it was a risk.

This entire mission had been a risk from the start, but he hadto take it. He couldn't face the alternative.

With a deep breath, he banged on one of the doors and called, "Mel, come on! You're late for class again. Professor Gray will kill you this time."

A feminine voice groaned. "Go away, Edward. I'm sleeping."

Relief washed over him. "Mel! Thank the gods. Let me in, already. Hurry!"

A half-dressed Stella opened the door, tugging a shawl over her shoulders. "Edward, what are you doing here? Didn't Mel tell you—"

"No time."

He pushed past her and closed the door behind him, locking it fast. Another second, and he had the drapes pulled and the door barred with a chair. He sank into it with a shudder, and tugged his knees to his chest.

"Edward, I—what's going on? Mel told you not to come."

He peered past Stella at a pile of covers on Mel's bed. "Wake her, first. Something terrible has happened, and I have to tell her in person."

Stella paled. "Are you well?"

He let slip a bitter laugh. "No. Not in the least, but wake her. Please. I can't say it twice. I'm not even sure I have the strength to say it once."

Stella nodded and rushed to the bed. "Mel, wake up!"

She sat, groggy and annoyed, and Edward buried his head in his knees. He was trembling.

"What's all the fuss? It's not even dawn yet."

"We had to pull the drapes. It's more like nine, but please. There's something wrong with Edward."

Bare feet slapped to the floor, and covers rustled. "What? What's hap-happen—what the? Who is that?"

Edward shook harder.

"It's Edward, Mel, and he's te—"

She cut Stella off with a fierce hiss. " _Edward_! Gods above, you dolt! I told you to stay away!"

Edward lifted his face to hers, and opened his eyes. Tears slid from his lashes and into his cloak.

"Please don't be angry at me. I came because I have no choice."

She gasped and cupped his cheeks. "Edward! What's wr—"

Doleful, clanging bells rang out over the countryside, and a clamor of voices erupted all around the house.

"What on Aia?" Mel made for the window, but Edward held out an arm.

"Don't. They're ringing for me."

She flopped, nonplussed, into a chair at the kitchen table. "Okay, I'm confused. Why are the warning bells ringing, why are you here, and why are you so upset? What's gone wrong?"

He trembled and lowered his gaze. "I, I came to tell you, to tell you, don't go to Aveyond."

"What? Why?"

He let out a soft sob. "Because it's no good, not now! I'm not innocent anymore."


End file.
